On the roof of a building, barely visible in the approaching dark, two figures were engaged in conversation. One of the two was slowly dying. The stench of blood filled the air, thick and permeating.

Slumped against the wall, a knife lodged deep in his gut, a particular Irken was quietly suffering. Fluids dripped out of him steadily, and his normally bright green skin was growing paler by the minute. He coughed harshly, hacking up pink blood.

Spitting it onto the floor, he stared at his enemy with a cold expression.

"I guess you've won," he said, his voice filled with exhaustion and defeat.

Dib kneeled next to him. "It didn't have to end like this." He said quietly, his voice trembling. "You could have changed and became better."

Zim shifted his body, groaning in pain. "And you could have done something different instead of stabbing me. We all make bad choices sometimes."

"You were trying to KILL me!" Dib yelled. "What else was I supposed to do?!"

The dying Irken placed his prosthetic hand around the handle of the knife lodged in his body. "You should have let me kill you. Then this wouldn't be happening."

Dib glanced down at Zim's hands. "Don't pull it out."

Zim narrowed his eyes at him in a challenging manner, slowly placing his other hand on the handle. "Why not?"

"You'll die," the human said, reaching for Zim's hands. "And I want you to live."

"I am already dying, Dib," the Irken stated. "I can feel it."

Dib grabbed hold of Zim's hands, gently prying them off of the weapon. "Please," he whispered. "Please listen to me just this once. I'm trying to save you."

"I am ready," Zim said with as much confidence as he could gather. "I have accomplished nearly everything that I've wanted to do, and now I tire of living."

"I can't let you do this,"

Zim tried to stand, a weakened scream ripped from his throat with the effort. He managed to get to his feet, leaning against the cool metal of the building. The bleeding worsened, now dripping out of him in a steady stream, like the trickle of water from a faucet someone forgot to turn off all the way.

"Then you do it,"' he replied, voice thick with agony. "Release me, and end my pain."

Tears fell from Dib's eyes. "I can't. I just can't."

Labored breathing reached Dib's ears, and he realized that Zim was in worse shape than he first thought.

"Don't you want closure for your family?" Zim prodded, breathing like he had just run a marathon. "I tortured them, I made you watch as my soldiers killed them right in front of you. Don't you still feel their loss in your heart?'

Dib nodded. "I do. I think about them everyday, and I still wish that I could have done more to protect them. I feel so guilty that I couldn't save them."

"They hated you," Zim taunted, he was breathing slower now, eyes closed. He was seized by a coughing fit, his chest burning. Every breath felt like he was swallowing hot coals. "They never would have accepted you, and you knew that. Deep down, you knew that. But yet, you still tried to earn their respect."

"Because they were my family." Dib said, voice soft and filled with emotion. "You're supposed to love family, and they're supposed to keep you safe and provide for you."

Zim chuckled, a whimper of pain escaping his mouth at the action. "You're just a clone. You're NOTHING."

"I may be a clone of my father, but I am still a human being!" Dib replied, growing angry.

Zim chuckled again at Dib's reaction. "Yes. Barely a human. More of an experiment grown in a laboratory, and still a failed one. Still worthy of termination."

"That doesn't matter now." Dib responded, fire in his belly. "I still survived. I still had the right to live!"

"You… are nothing," Zim panted weakly, sliding back down to a sitting position, staring at the ground. "And you will ALWAYS be nothing without me!"

"I'm not the one who's dying right now!" Dib yelled. "I'm not the one who has a knife in his stomach! YOU DID THAT! You caused this, and now you're trying to blame me for it?!"

Zim coughed up more blood, his body trembling. Sweat dripped down his face as he met Dib's gaze. "I suppose you can still be something now." He gripped the handle again. "Help me pull it out. I'm too weak."

"I will not help you again. I've done enough for you already."

"Don't you want this kill?" Zim said weakly, eyes barely open. "Imagine the praise you'll receive. Killing your first Irken Invader. You would be known across the galaxy. You'd be loved. Finally accepted. You'd have everything you want."

"I'm fine with what I have now."

"You're fine with nothing?" Zim asked, a tired smile on his face. "Because that's what you have. Nothing. You will never truly have closure if you don't do this, and you will never know peace. This will haunt you forever. You'll agonize over this moment for the rest of your existence, wishing that you could have ensured the end of your most mortal enemy."

"They've offered me asylum here, Zim. I'm going to accept it." Dib said, pacing in front of the mortally wounded Irken. "I can be happy here. I can live my life here, free of you forever."

"If that's what you really want," Zim said weakly. "Then you have learned nothing from my teachings."

Dib stopped pacing and turned to Zim. "All you did was keep me alive. You fed me and gave me food, yes, but you never helped me."

"I kept you SAFE!" Zim snarled, coughing up more blood. "I protected you, I taught you how to live and survive. I provided you with sleeping quarters, daily meals, everything a human needs to live. You should be grateful!"

"You kept me alive because you NEEDED me!" Dib shouted, his blood boiling. "You never really cared about me, and the moment you got bored of me, you tried to kill me! You're nothing but a sociopath!"

"I… never wanted to kill you," Zim rasped. "I enjoyed your company."

Dib pulled down his shirt collar, revealing the multitude of scars that criss-crossed his upper body. "These scars are from YOU! What YOU did to me! You tortured me!"

"I wanted… to make you stronger." Zim placed his hand over his bleeding wound, the blood leaking through his fingers. "I never wanted this to happen."

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Dib spat. "You've always wanted me dead from the moment we first met!"

"Not true," Zim said. "I always saw potential in you. I wouldn't have chosen you as my enemy otherwise. You gave me purpose, motivation. I was grateful to have you."

"You got a strange way of showing it," Dib said.

Zim shifted, and reached behind him.

"What are you doing?" Dib questioned.

Zim looked him dead in the eyes as he pulled a syringe from a compartment in his PAK, gripping it tightly.

"What is that?"

The Irken jammed the needle into his leg. "Just a little incentive," he replied as he pressed down on the plunger, the liquid disappearing into his body. Once it was completely emptied, the needle was withdrawn.

"What are you talking about? What did you just do?!"

"Enough of your questions!" Zim snapped, crushing the syringe in his hand and throwing it over the edge of the roof. He looked down at the knife. "Just pull this out so I can be free of you!"

"I already told you that I'm not killing you." Dib said. "You can do that yourself."

Zim grasped the handle. "Is this what you really want?"

"I don't know." The human replied, "but I'm starting to think it would be better if you were gone."

Zim grasped the handle more securely, staring at it. He made no move to pull it out, just sat there staring.

Dib noticed his hesitation. "You're scared," he realized. "You're afraid to die."

"I am not afraid of anything!" The Irken hissed, his hands shaking. "I am just preparing myself!"

"Good excuse."

"I am not scared." Zim said. "I just don't want to leave you alone now."

"You act like you've been through this before."

"I have," Zim said quietly, looking downcast. "And he didn't make it."

Dib scoffed. "Okay, sure. Like you ever had friends before."

Zim growled and glared at the human, eyes burning. "Don't you EVER! Say that to me again!"

He stood up again, now focused on pulling out the blade stuck in his body. "If I am dying, you are sharing my fate!"

Dib watched in surprise as Zim successfully wretched the knife free.

Zim screamed as he pulled it out, the blood dripping faster from the wound now that nothing was plugging it.

The Irken took a step toward Dib, looking pale and sickly from blood loss. "You don't….know anything… about…"

He collapsed again, dropping the blood-covered knife, but Dib rushed forward and caught him as he fell, gently leaning him up against the railing.

"Well, now you're definitely fucked," Dib noted, "There's no stopping it now."

Zim whimpered in agony. "Please… kill me. Let me be with him."

"Who?" Dib asked, confused. He pulled Zim into his lap, cradling the Irken's head on his shoulder. "Be with who?"

"You're useless…" Zim whispered, voice growing weaker. "So useless…"

"I'm sorry it had to go this way," Dib said, tears rolling down his face. "I wish it could been different."

"Everything dies," the Irken said, Dib straining to hear him. "Even us."

They sat like this for several more minutes, Zim slowly bleeding to death, cradled by the human he had hated most.

When Dib no longer felt Zim's breath, he gently lay him down on the ground, closing his eyes.

He stood up and wandered over to the railing, looking down at the city below as he began to silently cry and mourn the loss.

After several more minutes passed, unbeknownst to Dib, Zim's body began to twitch.

With a soft snarl, his eyes slowly opened, as grey and dead as a barren wasteland.